Jealousy
by awksplosion
Summary: When Gale comes to visit Katniss as a surprise, she finds an unexpected sight of him beating Peeta up.
1. Chapter 1

I walk calmly through the square, a bag full of fresh groceries swinging from my wrist. The people of District 12 talk and laugh merrily with eachother, genuinely loving life. I barely remember the District 12 I used to know, with the bleak cobblestones and the emaciated children and the miners blown to bits in a world that used to lie beneath us. Now, District 12 is a place of beautiful vibrancy and joy. Strangely, I find myself loving the crowds of people that swarm in the square every day. As I make my way towards the street that leads to the Victor's Village, I smile when I picture Peeta's face when he sees the blueberries that I bought for him. They're rarely in season, and they're his favourite fruit; he loves to bake with them. Before I know it, since my thoughts overpowered my senses, I'm stood directly in front of the steps to the porch of our house. However, I pause. Something doesn't seem right. I know this because my hunter's instinct tells me so. Then I hear an uproar of noise from inside, and I _know _that something isn't right. Something is very wrong.

I run up the steps and pound into the house, slamming the door shut behind me. Whoever is making the racket in the living room is too concentrated on their predicament to notice. I'm just able to make out Haymitch.

"Get off him, boy!" he yells furiously, an edge of emotion in his voice that I have never heard before. A repetitive sound picks up: thud, yelp, thud, wail, thud, moan. I run into the living room and take in the horrific scene all at once. An easel with a canvas set upon it at a slight angle, with a hole through it as if someone has punched it. Haymitch, pulling desperately at something I cannot see until I move further in. _Oh, no. No, no, no, no, NO! _I think, terrified of the image before me. I see the familiar face of Gale, but it's like it is attatched to the wrong body. A body that has fists and feet pumelling into my Peeta's pristine, perfect skin. Beating the crap out of him. I scream a strangled cry and Haymitch and Gale turn their heads towards me. I launch myself at Gale, digging my nails down the side of his face as I did to Haymitch all those years ago.

Gale releases his iron grip on my husband. Haymitch immediately shoves me out of the way so he can grab Gale's shirt, and toss him as far away from Peeta as he can. I advance slowly towards Gale.

"How could you?" I try to sound as menacing as I can, but I'm so confused I just sound like a scared, young girl.

"I just snapped, I-" Gale tries to defend himself, small drops of blood running down his face from the scratches I inflicted on him, but I interupt.

"No. Save it Gale, because I don't want to hear any more of it. You know what Peeta went through in the Capitol, he was beaten, tortured, and hijacked. And you want him to remind him of it!" My voice climbs up to an indignant yell that I'm quite proud of.

"I'm sorry, Katniss. I really am. I don't know what came over me." I can see the tears welling up in Gale's grey eyes. Part of me wants to forgive him, to tell him that I understand. But I'm Katniss Everdeen, and that's not what I do.

"Get out," I fold my arms, and I feel the scowl on my face form. "Get out of our house, Gale. This is it for us. First, you kill my sister. Now, this? You don't care about me. All you care about is yourself. I can't believe I thought I loved you..." my voice cracks at the end, and tears threaten to spill down my cheeks.

"You heard the girl," I hear Haymitch's gruff voice behind me "get out. Or, do I have to make you?"

Finally, Gale gets the message and leaves the house. I think I hear him sob as the door shuts behind him. I'm surprised to realise that I don't care.


	2. Part 2

Piteous tears sting my eyes as I observe Peeta's crumpled form. A small cut above his left brow leaves a train of blood down the side of his face, splitting directly through a blue-purple bruise on his cheekbone. He isn't seriously injured, phsyically, but I can't imagine the horrendous terror he is feeling right now. He sits with his back against the side of the couch, legs pulled up to his chest, arms falling limply at his sides. Peeta almost looks like a ragdoll. But its his eyes, those dazzling eyes I know so well, are what breaks my heart. Widened in fear, they flicker between anger, pain and sorrow. No tears are in them. He's too aghast to cry. Then again, he rarely does. Only after a horrific nightmare or episode. I stare into his eyes, mezmerised by their ultimate sadness. It is Haymitch's voice that brings me back into reality.

"Peeta?" Haymitch mutters, and I see the rare, concerned look on his face. Peeta doesn't respond. I notice his chest, moving up and down so fast I'm afraid his lungs will burst. Composedly, I kneel down in front of Peeta's feet. To my surprise, he isn't shaking. His body is completely still. I would think him dead if it weren't for his chest rising and falling so swiftly. I'm aware that Haymitch is calling Peeta's name again, but quietly, so as not to spook him. I lean slowly towards him, and Peeta's eyes stare without seeing, until I touch his face. Peeta blinks once, and he catches sight of me.

"Ohhh..." Peeta moans, and it is full of agony and uneasiness. He brings his hands up to clutch his head as he swings it forward to lull on his knees. He squeezes his eyes shut and I hear him trying to slow his breathing. What a sight we must look. A boy, crazed with terror. A girl, haunted by the sorrow of the one she loves most. A man, healing his pain through alcohol. Whilst lost in thought, I am brought back by Peeta giving a loud, gut-wrenching scream. He starts pulling at his hair and without warning, he kicks his leg out and hits me square in the stomach. I fall back, winded.

"No, no, no! Please no...No more...Stop...No..." Peeta cries, as me and Haymitch watch him re-living his experience in the Capitol. Haymitch looks as distressed as I feel. Here we sit, for what seems like forever until Peeta relaxes and slumps sideways against the wall, defeated. I entwine my fingers into his, but he's too exhausted to notice. In silence, Haymitch and I help Peeta to his feet and help him to the bedroom. At the sight of the bed, Peeta sighs in relief and lets me baby him. I undress him and redress him in his soft, warm pajamas. He collapses on the bed and falls alseep almost immediately. I watch him for a while, wringing my hands in worry that he will suffer nightmares tonight. So, I do the only thing I know I can do. I climb into bed beside him, moulding my body into his curled figure. I instantly feel the warmth and steadiness that Peeta brings to everything. I ball my hands into fists and press them gently against Peeta's chest. He thanks me with a sleepy smile and binds me in the snug refuge that is his arms.


End file.
